I am a tired little lady.

Seems the word of the year , for everyone, has been “transition”. Ugh. I’m so sick of transition. I know, I know. It’s part of a process. And yes, I know, uprooting yourself from one part of the world to another isn’t an easy feat, and while it’s a challenge I prepared for, I believe I’m at least entitled to say, I’m tired, B.

I’ve been hesistant to journal on my blog…everyone knows I’m all emotion and I speak the language of my feelings fluently, but is the blog still the right place to do so?

But then again. It’s my blog. I can do whatever I want! Ha.

I will say….I’m trying to accept that I’m allowed to own the fact that at this given moment, there are many things I don’t know. As in, I don’t know what moves to make next. I don’t know where my creativity will take me. I don’t know what to do to be creative lately. I don’t know why I can’t seem to write. I don’t know where to settle in. I don’t know why I hang on to certain things that aren’t good for me. I don’t know when it will all come. I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know…

Thing about this city is that its shizophrenic. Look at the sky, for example. Sunny at 1 pm, and storming at 2. Blue at sunrise, grey by noon. Drastic change occur in a short time span. So many things happen in the course of a few hours. Every day is a beautiful adventure, yes, but tiring too. You meet so many, many people, but only a few will be lasting friendships…oh dear, my mind is as crowded as this city.

I love it here, don’t get me wrong. But man oh man I’m tired.

Praying for:

patience    strength    resilience    clarity  consistency  stability  ingenuity.

But this I know. God don’t make no mistakes.

Here’s to moving “forward always forward, by any means necessary” . (A quote from my sis, Jen Armas’s forearm tattoo).

Love, always.